“If I recall, you woke up with me in your bed several mornings in Miami.”
“That wasn’t my bed. It was the hotel’s bed. No women spend the night in my bed.”
She frowned over at him while stretching and hated to admit that his bed slept a whole lot better than hers. “So what happens to them? They sneak out on you before sunrise?” Although she asked, she couldn’t imagine such a thing happening.
“No. I have this rule. No woman sleeps in my bed.”
She froze. “So where do they sleep when the two of you get together?”
He shrugged again. “Their own bed. A hotel room. But definitely not here.”
She stared at him. “Let me get this straight. Are you saying that you don’t have a problem sleeping in their bed, but you have a rule against them sleeping in yours?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
She smiled. “Then I’m glad I made you break that rule. Of all the idiotic things I’ve ever heard. That’s being downright selfish.”
“No, that’s being smart.”
“Then I guess you were pretty damned dumb last night, huh?”
She saw the flash of fire that swept into his eyes but wasn’t fast enough to get out of his way. She tried sprinting from the bed, but he caught her around the waist and tugged her back. “I need to do something about your sassiness,” he snarled.
“And I need to do something about your arrogance,” she snarled back.
They stared long and hard at each other, and then it suddenly occurred to them that their breathing pattern had changed. They were breathing out a different kind of fire. Not one of anger, but one of desire. Jules wasn’t sure who made the first move, and she didn’t care. All she knew was that suddenly her back was on the mattress, and his hands were touching her everywhere. His mouth followed as his teeth raked across the skin his hands had stroked.
She sucked in a shallow breath. His touch was filling her with a longing she had never imagined. Her entire body tingled with awareness, and shivers escalated down her spine.
“You never said whether or not you missed me, Jules,” he said, his voice feeling like corn silk on her skin. He had paused from sucking on one of her nipples, but his hands were still planted firmly between her legs.
“Didn’t I?” she asked, barely getting the words out.
“No, you didn’t. And I think I sufficiently proved how much I missed you last night.”
Yes, he had. Almost too much. And in the most raw, sexual way. Primitive at its best. All last night and the early part of this morning. Before daybreak. “I owe you.”
“And don’t think I won’t collect.”
He used his knees to spread her thighs and a moan escaped from her lips when he entered her, pushing his engorged shaft inside her to the hilt. And he looked down at her, laced his fingers with hers when he began riding her hard. He established a rhythm. She didn’t know the lyrics, but she understood the melody each and every time his hips slammed down into hers. They were making music, composing a song. One that would blow up the charts. It had a crazy beat and an intense tune.
She needed to lose herself in this particular song, and he was making it happen with each and every stroke. Strumming her like a guitar. Beating down on her like drums. Playing her like a finely tuned piano. And when her body exploded at the same time his did, she felt she was experiencing more than sensuous music. Dalton had played the entire song using every single instrument.
And moments later when he moved his weight off her and pulled her gently into his arms, kissing the side of her flushed cheeks, she felt drained, exhausted but pleasured in every inch of her body.
*
Jules woke up an hour or so later to find Dalton staring down at her with tension in his face. This time was worse than before. “I hope you’re on the Pill.”
She wiped sleep from her eyes and yawned. “And if I’m not?”
Dalton frowned. “Please say that you are.”
“Why, aren’t you ready to become a daddy?”